Quirk of Fate
by AngelMoon Girl
Summary: Reclusive med-student Chiba Mamoru would never have gotten caught up in the fantastical world of superheroes, moon princesses, and nefarious alien queens were it not for a little mishap involving Tokyo's legendary Sailor Moon and his car's front bumper...
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Sailor Moon is the property of Naoko Takeuchi, Toei Animation, and a slew of other companies who are meanies because they won't re-air the show in North America. Ahem.

**Quirk of Fate**

~Prologue~

On Tuesday I was just an ordinary med-student with an ordinary job and an ordinary life.

I like ordinary. I like normalcy. I'm the sort of guy who enjoys sitting back and watching the universe unfold from a comfy perch far, far away from the affairs of the world.

But on Wednesday, everything took a turn for the extraordinary simply because I didn't have the foresight to walk away while I still had the chance. Damned if you do and damned if you don't, right? And then, somehow, I found myself caught up in the inextricable world of superheroes, moon princesses, and evil aliens bent on claiming earth for their own. Which I'm still rather hesitant to believe exists, no matter what that enigmatic girl says. Mental trauma can do funny things to people; I've seen the proof firsthand... but I suppose that's my fault too, isn't it?

Well, not entirely.

_She's_ the one who came bounding out of nowhere, right into the trajectory of my car. It's not like I _meant _to hit her. You'd think she might have some sort of sixth sense about those things, being Tokyo's legendary superheroine and all...

Heart of stone? Maybe. But you have absolutely no right to judge me until you know who I truly am, and why I made the decisions I did.

One thing is for certain, though.

The day I accidentally rammed Sailor Moon with my car was the day my destiny changed. Forever.

* * *

A/N: Ha. Just a little teaser for you all ^^ I'm not quite sure when I'll be updating this fic again; I still have many plot details to work out but I just wanted to see what the response was first. As of right now I have two main ideas and no clue which to choose for the direction of the story. One is the premise you see here, with Mamoru having led an ordinary life until accidentally injuring the legendary Sailor Moon with his car. The Tsukino Usagi/Chiba Mamoru subplot will still be there, with them having met and not quite hitting it off right away (hee). But, because Sailor Moon can't fight after the car incident, she helps Mamoru become superhero Tuxedo Kamen after realizing the powerful potential in him and the risk her absence would pose to the world (I may even have Chiba at the stage where he actually does become Kamen but is unaware of his alterego?). The second possible plot would be to have Mamoru know he is Kamen and view Moon as his enemy, although in pity takes her to his house (this happens in either plot, by the way). Hmm, decisions decisions. Shoot me off a review; tell me which sounds better!

**AngelMoon Girl**


	2. Is There Insurance for This?

Disclaimer: Sailor Moon? Whozzat? *ruminates*

A/N: Alrighty, folks! You've cast your votes, sent your feedback, and now the moment you've all been waiting for... I decided we're going with plot #1! Woo! As to whether Mamoru already has the ability to become Tuxedo Kamen or not yet... we'll see after the story makes headway. Thank you very much to **CharmedSerenity3, Anonyamous Angel0; ), sakanascales876, StarryNight101, PriestessHelene, **and **Anan-sama.**

**"Quirk of Fate"**

_~Is There Insurance for This?~_

I couldn't move.

I literally. couldn't. move.

I'm not sure how long I remained a statue, but it was probably about thirty seconds, maybe more. I just sat there with my fingers clenched around the steering wheel, heart beating a painful and no doubt irregular rhythm while I gasped for air.

'Breathe', I reminded myself every so often, but one invariably takes such a simple action for granted when they're _not_ knee-deep in a crisis. Or more precisely, thirty seconds after hitting someone with their car. At least, I _thought_ it was a person. I couldn't be too sure; after all, it was almost nine-thirty so not only was the highway cloaked in darkness, but I was tired to boot. Still, I couldn't deny that even without the moonlight, the figure had looked suspiciously like a woman.

... a woman who came flying out of nowhere, right into the trajectory of my Ferrari.

It's strange the way the mind functions under stress, because I suddenly had the urge to giggle.

Yes, giggle. Lord save us all. Chiba Mamoru _does not _giggle, I can assure you that. But for some unexplained reason, my brain provided the mental image of a woman being flung down from heaven. Maybe some angel, sent from above to readjust my not-particularly-exciting life with her flawless beauty and charming wit.

And I had to go and hit her with my car. Typical.

Still, as the shock wore off and the fear flitted in, I realized that I was probably being the world's biggest asshole. Here I was, freaking out in my car, while a woman lay hurt and hell, maybe even dead in the road. While I couldn't see anything out the windshield (seeing as it was cracked beyond repair and all), I had a sinking suspicion whoever just got rammed by my vehicle was now sprawled underneath it.

"Fuck," I muttered raggedly, and let me tell you, I don't normally succumb to swearing like that. Hands shaking, I disentangled myself from the seat belt, suddenly glad I had worn it or I'd probably resemble a dissected frog right about now. You know, the sickly green kind high school biology professors force you to disembowel purely for the sake of grossing their students out? I compare myself to a sickly green amphibian because it's Motoki's running joke that my jacket spawns from one of these poor creatures, har har. But I digress.

Sorry, I tend to ramble when I'm inches away from having a meltdown.

As I wrenched open the door and slid from sanctuary, the chilly evening hair sliced through my skin with a vengeance. It was early fall, the time of year when days are cool and nights cooler. I half wished I'd brought along something heavier than my usual light outer coat, but I suppose that doesn't really matter anymore. I peeked around the front of the car where my bumper hung at an odd angle, freezing when I caught sight of the woman- yes, I hadn't been dreaming- lying insipid and bleeding in the street.

My throbbing heart chose this moment to fail, and the next thing I knew I was clutching the left side mirror for support with flagging knees and blurring vision.

Because I knew her. Oh God, _I knew her_.

Okay, not personally, but who didn't know Tokyo's freaking legend of a superheroine, Sailor Moon? When her face was plastered on umpteen billboards throughout the city... and her picture graced the newspaper headlines every other day... and when she rested unconscious under your car. I did a double-take. She _was_ unconscious, right? Right!? Because as I sure as hell didn't have insurance to cover the accidental death of a vigilante, if not.

I moaned at the thought of being forever labelled a superhero murderer, dragging my reluctant feet toward the motionless woman. Apparently, stress also wreaks havoc with one's mind because right when I needed all that medical knowledge most, my memory wiped itself into a blank slate. So here I was, crouched over Sailor Moon, wringing my hands and imagining myself years from now, locked up behind some festering, rape-inclined prison. Helpful, right? So much for all that hard-earned cash being dumped into a college degree fund. I suddenly realized that if I couldn't determine whether a patient was dead or alive, I probably would make one hell of a terrible doctor. Then again, lifetime incarceration might just squash whatever hope I had left... So I took a deep breath, trying to calm down and recall the textbook plus whatever I'd gleaned from endless hours of cramming and lectures.

Okay.

First course of action I deemed prudent: check to see if she was alive. Heartbeat, breathing- simple enough. With sweaty palms, I searched the odangoed blonde's throat and wrist for telltale signs of life. Relief flooded my body when I touched upon the dull, throbbing pulse. Closer inspection of her slightly agape mouth assured me that yes, I wasn't facing charges of manslaughter because Sailor Moon was still exhaling light puffs of air.

Well, that was one millstone off my neck. But now came the hard part.

I cringed, eying a weeping laceration that trailed from the girl's side right across her midsection. Her arm was also tucked inward at an awkward angle, and there were odd purple bruises all over her legs. Here and there, tiny shards of glass stuck out from where I was sure pieces of my windshield had rained down and become embedded in the Senshi's skin. It was obvious my car had done a doosie on poor Sailor Moon. Enough that she needed more than a simple band-aid and pat on the head could provide.

I hesitated. The hospital popped into my mind first, but I shot down the idea almost as quickly as it came. Sailor Moon? In a facility? Sure, they'd heal her. And after that, she'd become a little lab rat for the government! No, I wouldn't wish that on any human with supernatural powers- even if they weren't pretty and wearing a miniskirt. I haven't trusted hospitals since my parents died. Funny, the professions you find yourself in.

I sighed. The only foreseeable option seemed to be taking Sailor Moon home and clumsily trying to patch her up there.

While breaking about a million laws in the process.

I gulped, already feeling the weight of those perpetrations. I'd never been a risk taker; never a particularly courageous man. But one look at Sailor Moon, and my resolve steeled.

I messed up. Horribly, and now a woman's life is on the line.

It's only fair that I should be the one to fix what went wrong.

* * *

A/N: And so it begins...

I'd love a fan-worshipping review :D Heck, I'd take a little reverence any day! That, or complimentary cake. Mm, cake.

~**AngelMoon Girl**


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